


Centre of Gravity

by Woldy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Best Friends, Character of Color, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Happy, POV Female Character, Romance, Swordplay, Wall Sex, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/pseuds/Woldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the <a href="http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/45011.html">Great Merlin Slam Fest</a> over at <a href="http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/"><b>i_claudia</b></a>'s LJ. This ficlet isn't betaed, so I apologise for any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Centre of Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Great Merlin Slam Fest](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/45011.html) over at [](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/profile)[**i_claudia**](http://i-claudia.livejournal.com/)'s LJ. This ficlet isn't betaed, so I apologise for any mistakes.

On days like this, with the sky a glorious pink above them and autumn leaves swirling around their feet, it's easy to forget the downsides of living in Camelot.

Morgana's sword slices towards her head, and Gwen raises her own and braces herself for the blow. The swords clash, and Morgana steps back, preparing for another attack, her face fierce with concentration.

Their fighting styles have always been different: Morgana's more competitive and her swordwork is showy, the product of adolescent sparring with Arthur before he experienced real combat. Gwen learned from her father and she fights with a smith's awareness of her centre of gravity and the balance of the blade.

For all that Morgana wins the majority of their fights - she can't help looking disappointed when she doesn't win, and Gwen doesn't like to see it - Gwen is a slightly better swordswoman. It comes from patience and the ability to identify, if not always to capitalise on, other people's weaknesses.

Morgana swings again, a gleaming arc of steel towards Gwen's left, which Gwen blocks with the blunt of her sword and lunges forwards taking advantage of the moment when Morgana's body is unguarded. She catches the fabric of Morgana's loose shirt with the tip and hears Morgana gasp with surprise before she jumps aside.

Before Gwen can press the advantage Morgana attacks once more, a low jab to her right, which Gwen deflects towards the ground. She is ready, waiting, when Morgana's blade curves around, swinging towards Gwen's shoulder.

The sun is setting and they'll be expected soon for dinner. It's time to finish this.

Gwen parries hard, putting her weight behind it to push Morgana's sword wide, and darts forward. She makes a feint towards Morgana's ankle and, just as she planned, Morgana slips in the effort to avoid it, falling backwards onto the grass. In a second, Gwen's sword is hovering above Morgana's throat.

"All right, fine, you won this round," Morgana concedes, and Gwen lowers her sword, offering Morgana her free hand.

For a moment Gwen thinks Morgana is going to pull her over, getting them both covered in wet grass, but instead Morgana allows herself to be tugged upright.

"That was a good fight," Gwen says with a smile, and Morgana smiles back.

"There's something satisfying about knowing the swords will need sharpening afterwards. Besides, we might need these skills one day."

Morgana shoots Gwen a look and they say together, "In case we're kidnapped."

The possibility of kidnap has been Morgana's excuse for swordplay for years, said often enough that Uther sighs and Arthur rolls his eyes. It _might_ happen one day, but Gwen knows that Morgana loves the rough and tumble of a fight, blades clashing in the air. If they have to, they'll fight for their lives or for a principle - as they did in Ealdor - but mostly they just fight for fun.

Morgana starts walking back towards the castle and Gwen follows, hurrying a little to catch up. The guards give them a tolerant look as they pass, clearly thinking them silly women who are playing around, and Morgana nods regally at them. Once they've passed the guards, she spins around and sticks her tongue out at their backs.

"Morgana, they're just doing their jobs."

"They're stuffy," Morgana says, bumping her shoulder against Gwen's.

"It's a stuffy job," Gwen says, more for the fun of argument than because she disagrees. "If the guards had any imagination then they wouldn't be good at following orders. We'd get invaded by anyone with a pretty face and a good story."

"That sounds like fun," Morgana says, as they start down the stairs towards the armoury.

She shoots Gwen a sideways look, her dark eyes laughing, and Gwen sighs inwardly. Sword-fighting together is an escape from the rules and stuffy protocol of the castle, and it's always a wrench to return to it.

Morgana flings open the door of the armoury and steps inside, crossing the room to return her sword to where she found it. Gwen pauses to wipe her blade dry with a cloth before returning it, and when she looks up Morgana is watching her.

"What?"

"Ever the blacksmith's daughter," Morgana says affectionately.

Gwen moves towards the door, but Morgana catches her shoulder and presses her back against the wall instead.

"I'm not ready to go back upstairs," she says in a low voice, and dips her head to kiss Gwen.

It isn't the first time they've kissed, but it's the first outside the warmth and privacy of Morgana's bed. Morgana leans into her, pressing Gwen's body back against the stone, and Gwen gasps.

Morgana's mouth is hot and her tongue slides against Gwen's own, tasting and teasing. Gwen tips her head back and reaches up to clasp at Morgana's hair, pulling her closer. Beneath the armoury's constant scent of oil for the metal, Gwen can smell Morgana's sweat and the soft leather of her jacket. It smells wonderful.

Gwen turns her head, pressing a kiss to the pale skin beneath Morgana's jaw, and Morgana slides her leg forward, nudging Gwen's knees apart. The sensible part of Gwen says that they shouldn't be doing this here, that Morgana needs to wash and change for dinner, that she should be laying the fires upstairs, but she can't bring herself to move.

Morgana's hand squeezes Gwen's bum, holding her up as Morgana's thigh presses between her legs, and Gwen's conscience gives up the fight. When Morgana's thigh rocks against her, Gwen arches into the contact, pressing desperate kisses against the damp skin of Morgana's neck.

"Kiss me," she demands, and Morgana complies, driving her hips forward as she does so, and Gwen arches again, matching the rhythm of Morgana's movements.

"I wish we didn't have to go," Morgana says breathlessly, the words ghosting across Gwen's skin. "There's bottles of oil down here, I could-"

"Next time!" Gwen pants, "I just - please! Your hand."

For once, Morgana does what she's told without arguing, because the next moment Gwen feels Morgana's hand cup between her legs. Morgana's fingers curve, finding just the spot Gwen needs through the fabric of her trousers, and pressing little circles in the damp cloth beside the seam.

Gwen's breath stutters and her hips try to make greedy movements towards Morgana's hand, but she's caught between the wall and the weight of Morgana's body leaning into her. Morgana twists her fingers again, fluttering them against Gwen's clit, and it's only seconds before she comes, shuddering.

Gwen sags against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe, and Morgana holds her there, a hand still cupping Gwen's arse.

"If that's when I get, then I'll have to win more often," Gwen says, without moving from where her face is tucked into Morgana's neck.

She feels a sharp pinch on her bum and Gwen starts, looking up into Morgana's face.

"Next time, it's my turn," Morgana says imperiously, and Gwen doesn't think that anyone other than her could hear the laughter as well as the challenge in that statement.

Gwen presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and feels Morgana's lips curve into a smile.

She says, "I look forward to it."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Wield your weakness as a sword (the shifting centres remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/125362) by [emei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emei/pseuds/emei)




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